Positivity Minifills
by Loethlin
Summary: The idea that this Anon on the kink meme had was simple: trade very small, one paragraph long, fills for rare pairings with other Anons. These are the ones I wrote.
1. Round One

The idea that this Anon on the kink meme had was simple: trade very small, about one paragraph long, fills for rare pairings with other Anons.

Here are my fills. The pairings are: Joker/EDI, Garrus/Tali, Aethyta/Benezia and FemShep/Ashley

* * *

"Jeff."

"Yes?"

He really wanted to know. He did. But this was unexpected.

He only raised his eyes from all the telemetries and other crap, just to see her closing in. He felt her cool, surprisingly life-like lips on his own. She tried making it brief, but he stroked her shiny, silvery arm and she let out a little huff of breath. Her feedback was clearly positive, because she pressed her glossy mouth harder against his.

She tested her waters, running her surprisingly moist tongue over his teeth and he let her in. The friction was exquisite and she nipped his lower lip.

They parted, tiny thread of moisture briefly connecting their bottom lips.

"Good luck, Jeff."

* * *

The air crackled with lightning around the little metal cage.

BZZZT!  
"Are you sure it's safe?"

She just giggled and took his hand. She pressed some buttons on the console and the coils came to life again, crackling electricity all around.  
Garrus thought it was beautiful. Powerful, arcing overloads all around them, reflected brightly in Tali's purple visor. She leaned against him, head on his shoulder.

Between the lights and the feeling of her breathing he started noticing a pattern to the crackling. He caught himself humming along.

Tali clung even closer to him, glowing eyes on his face.

"Carry on, you will always remember," she whispered.

"Carry on, nothing equals the splendor," he whispered back.

* * *

"Nezzie. Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. I await you."

Their fingers entwined, they kissed, slowly, exploratory. Tiny sparks of touch jumped between them.

Harder, now, the kiss initiated the meld and black and golden swirls behind their eyelids escalated their dance. In one mind, they weaved through their desires with long, blue fingers, sighing in bliss at each other's touch.

Shiny, spun golden threads uncoiled, leaving them gasping, breathlessly saying each other's names.

It was forever now, wasn't it? Forever, that is a very long time.

But at least in that perfect afterglow, both Benezia and Aethyta had no doubt that it was their forever to share.

* * *

"Season of mists!" Ashley says. "And mellow fruitfulness! Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless!" she giggles and nuzzles Jane's neck. "With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run-"

Jane cuts her off with a little kiss.

"Ah, Keats, he was a jolly one."

"That's actually one of the brightest poems he wrote, Skipper," Ash says, huffing in offence, but snuggles closer to Jane.

"I'll show you jolly," Jane smirks and rolls atop of Ash, pinning her to the bed. Their noses touch briefly. "A pirate, history relates; Was scuffling with some of his mates; When he slipped on a cutlass; Which rendered him nutless; And practically useless on dates!"

They both laugh, Jane strokes Ashley's cheek. Ash stops giggling, looks into Jane's eyes, runs her hands down her sides. She sighs contently, smiles a little. She presses her forehead to Jane's, gives her another little kiss, then pushes her off.

Jane stretches when Ashley leans over her, placing several kisses on her belly.

"Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright," she whispers, placing kisses lower, on Jane's hip. "In the forests of the night," She pulls Jane's shorts down slightly, teasing the revealed skin with more kisses. "What immortal hand or eye," she licks a long trail from the belly button to the hem of the shorts. "Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"

Jane sighs, stroking Ashley's hair. The thick, black curtain tickles her skin, obscuring everything that Ash is doing behind it.

Between gasps and and moans, she tries to recite her own favourite.

"If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,  
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,  
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,  
If all men count with you, but none too much:  
If you can fill the unforgiving minute  
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,  
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,  
And—which is more—you'll be a Man, my son!"

* * *

Yes. They are listening to Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas, played on Tesla coils.

Can't believe I wrote about asari, and crossed them over with Vulcan koon-ut-kal-if-fee.

To Autumn by John Keats  
Tyger by William Blake  
If— by Rudyard Kipling


	2. Rusalka

FemShep/Batarian. Was supposed to be romantic.

* * *

Nothing was ever simple, she thought. Not war, not politics, not life.

Love - that wasn't simple either, but she decided long ago to just give up and do as her silly, possibly cybernetic, little heart desired.

So she sipped her champagne and just listened.

The eerie voice of the singer rose up the hall, singing her love and longing to a moon that wasn't there.

Moon never listened, anyway, as Shepard found out. It was just a barren rock, floating in the vast vacuum of space.

But Rusalka didn't care, she sang her haunting aria with such conviction, Shepard almost believed it'd help.

She heard her companion shifting at her side, not impatiently. She took his hand and rested her head on his shoulder. He, in turn, planted a little kiss on top of her head and kept listening, and looking at the stage, where Rusalka's song rose in crescendo.

He asked her later, why would she insist on seeing this particular opera, and why she wanted him tu turn his translator off for it.

She said, that translation wouldn't give the music justice, and this particular opera reminded her of them - together.

He pulled her in for a kiss, then. Stupidly gentle kiss that the both of them wouldn't expect. She melted into him, not in passion, but relief of being together in that moment, happy and whole before the storm.

Then it was time to say goodnight, to go back to their ships, go back to pretending, go back to the war and cold, barren rocks floating idly in the vacuum. But before that, Balak took her hands and kissed each of her fingers.

Shepard smiled happily and tried very hard not to think about Rusalka's fate.


	3. Chapter 3

TIM/Miranda

* * *

"Come back to bed."

Miranda smirked and shook her head. She liked him like that, loved his voice bereft of the harsh commanding tone. Just a soft murmur and a rustle of sheets, when he turned to his side.

She felt his hand, fingers stroking her back, circling every vertebra, before resting on the curve of her hip. Warm touch finally made her avert her gaze from the orange star.

"Come on, sweetheart. Come back to bed," he said again, and she obliged, sinking into a cloud of sheets scented with their passion and tobacco.

She kissed him, so hard, tasting the old bourbon and smoke, then rested her head on his chest.

Work, tomorrow. Soldier to resurrect.

She will do it for him, she'll so the best she can. Small small price to pay to the man who gave her the world, but more importantly, her life. And his love.


End file.
